


we both will

by celosiaa



Series: JM + Emma [7]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has EDS | Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Jordanian Jon, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, arabic-speaking jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/pseuds/celosiaa
Summary: Jon's had to call out from work, and Martin is sent home early as well.It's a difficult thing, sometimes, to care for yourself.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: JM + Emma [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909813
Comments: 22
Kudos: 162
Collections: Emmaverse AU





	we both will

**Author's Note:**

> habibi = my dear/darling/love
> 
> I have emotions and I want them both to be okay dammit

Earlier, far earlier than what ought to be, Jon hears the jingling of keys at the front door. Surely Martin couldn’t be home yet--lifting his head up a bit from where he lies, aching and stiff, on the sofa, the clock on the microwave reads out 3:32. Too early. Far too early.

What could possibly bring him home nearly four hours before he’s due?

It doesn’t take long at all for Jon to figure it out, as Martin stumbles in the door, bundled up head to toe and shaking, the beginnings of a hoarse-sounding cough dying on his lips. Unsurprisingly, he does not think to look for Jon in the living room, as he’s not due in until much later either--and does not notice him, lying as flat as possible on his stomach.

“You’re early,” Jon decides to call out--and Martin jumps about a mile high in the air, eyes locking wildly onto his at once.

“ _Christ_ , Jon. Nearly gave me a heart attack!” he half shouts, resting a hand against his chest as if to calm it.

“M’sorry, I--I didn’t mean to,” he soothes at once, wishing more than anything to get up and pluck the knitted orange cap from his head, and hold him until the shuddering passes.

“No, I--I know, just...what are you doing home so early?” he asks worriedly, eyebrows creasing together in just that way that Jon loves, the way that says he’s a man on a mission. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Could ask you the same,” Jon replies, attempting to move up to sitting--hissing quickly as his back _loudly_ protests this plan.

“You’re hurting,” he murmurs, bringing a freezing cold hand up to brush back Jon’s fringe, hanging wild and loose in his eyes. “What do you need?”

“Martin--”

“Seriously. Tell me what you need, and I will do it.”

“...heating pad would be nice,” Jon admits reluctantly, guilt flooding him as he takes in the ever-darkening bruises beneath his husband’s eyes, along with sniffling that was most assuredly not there this morning.

“Be right back.”

With that, and a small kiss atop his head, Jon is once more left alone in the living room, endlessly frustrated with his incredible knack for making things worse, for burdening his already over-burdened husband, for--

“Here you are. On the small of your back, then?” Martin asks gently as he returns, coming to sit on the coffee table in front of him.

“Yes. Please,” Jon mutters, hoping it conveys how truly sorry he feels about all of this.

His apology dies quickly on his lips as the heating pad is set on just the right spot, and he is overcome by the unfathomable relief of it.

And then Martin starts up a gentle massage, and he is done for.

“Mmm,” he says articulately, allowing his eyes to fall closed.

“Is that a good noise?”

“Mmm.”

“Okay,” Martin chuckles, continuing to work over his spine in silence, with just the right pressure, with just the right caution--before stopping rather suddenly, and lifting his arm to muffle several sneezes into his elbow, with a brief coughing fit to chase them.

“Are you ill, darling?” Jon asks softly, able to turn to face him now, watching as he rubs frustratedly at watering eyes beneath his glasses.

“I’m fine, Jon. It’s nothing,” he says quickly, and with a watery smile. “I have a feeling that _this_ \--”

He motions generally over Jon’s stretched out form.

“--is not nothing, though. How long has this been going on?”

Caught. He’s been caught, and now he’ll have to add guilt as another on Martin’s long list of daily burdens.

“It--it hasn’t been that bad. Until today.”

_“Jon.”_

“...since it got really cold. Two weeks.”

“I...I’m so sorry I didn’t notice,” Martin says, of course, everything about him screaming of a guilt and sadness Jon would do anything to take away, to not be the source of. “I should have, I’ve been selfish--”

“You’ve _not_ been--”

“I haven’t done enough. I wasn’t...I wasn’t prioritizing you, and I am so. Sorry,” he murmurs, voice beginning to break--weepiness a clear sign of the fever Jon is now sure is what got him sent home early today.

“We’ll talk about it later, love,” Jon soothes, reaching a hand up to brush his fingers against the back of his cheek. “I don’t like how warm you are.”

“It’s fine, habibi. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he insists. “It’s you. And you’ve been running yourself into the ground.”

“I’ve not been--”

“You have. And I know it,” Jon says firmly, drawing out a long sigh from Martin--which of course, turns into more coughing.

“That sounds like it hurts, habibi,” he continues resting his hand on Martin’s knee while he rubs at his throat, eyes watering against the sharp pain he finds there.

“I’ll be okay,” he chokes, still stubborn in his resolve to be fine.

“We both will,” Jon says softly, wrapping up Martin’s hand with his own, wanting more than anything to be up and fussing over him and making him tea.

“We both will.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this little ficlet! come find me on tumblr @celosiaa if you like :)
> 
> have a great day!  
> -love, connor


End file.
